Random Fact #2123: The Six-Fingered Monkey, occasionally, has self control issues.
Random Fact #976: The Six-Fingered Monkey tends to be somewhat impulsive.
Singularly, these personality traits aren’t all that bad. Unfortunately, in combination, they can spell trouble. If you throw in the trait previously outlined in Random Fact #2459, it can be a recipe for disaster. Yet, admittedly, I still gamble.
So, why gamble?
Gambling is in my blood.
I grew up in a house where betting on the ponies was as common as church on a Sunday, and the morning paper had significantly less value than The Daily Racing Form. While other kids would take day trips to the museum or the zoo, I was regularly treated to a day at the track. By the time I was eight-years-old, I could hold my own in any betting parlor, and I often did.
When my grandfather got sick, and subsequently passed away, my interest in horse racing waned, though I often think about hitting the track again one day.
As much as I enjoy betting on horse races, which, to me, takes a level of skill that is less prevalent in games of chance, I must admit that I am a sucker for the slots.
As a kid, casino gambling was something that was reserved for the two places (that I knew of) where gaming was legal - Vegas and Atlantic City. However, when I was in high school, the Native American casino boom took hold and, just across the Long Island Sound, they opened not one, but TWO huge casinos.
Although relatively close, its still a pain in the ass (and costs a good deal of money) to get over there.
This is a good thing, because I can't be trusted in the casino.
“I think that after Nana’s estate is settled I want to take some money and go on a few mini-vacations.”
“Just, ya know, some overnights... Close to home.”
“That sounds nice honey. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, for one, we should hit one of the casinos over in Connecticut,” I said, “and I don’t mean a day trip. We should totally stay overnight.”
“Oh boy. That could be dangerous.”
“You’re going to need to control yourself.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing... its just...”
“I’m gonna be in charge of the money.”
“Are you suggesting that I have a gambling problem?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just saying that I want to be in charge of the money.”
“That’s bullshit, dude. I am totally and completely responsible.”
“Really? Because, last time we went to the casino, you ran out of money and then insisted that I give you the two hundred dollars that I won on the slot machines.”
“Technically, that was MY money, because I GAVE you the money to gamble.”
“That doesn’t matter, I was gonna hold on to it so that we would leave ahead.”
“Um, no its not.”
“I do get a little crazy at the casino,” I sighed. “This one time, years ago, I went there and stayed overnight. I ran out of money, like, within the first two hours and, by the time I left the next day, I had drained my bank account and couldn’t pay the rent that month.”
“See? You should’ve learned a lesson there.”
“I did,” I replied. “They should NOT have ATMs on the casino floor.”
“So its the casino’s fault?”
“Because they have ATMs on the casino floor?”
“Yes,” I declared, “and the alcohol is free. There’s your proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That I do NOT have a gambling problem.”